


Why Don't You Do Right?

by Munchy



Series: Easy Living [3]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 3
Genre: But fails miserably, Butch is trying to keep it together, Cause I know absolute shit about medicine, Character Study, Ellen DeLoria is one Hell of a mess, Everyone lies, Gen, Hopefully he doesn't fail miserably, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, James is trying to be a good adult figure, Medical Jargon, Not a lot though, Officer Hannon needs to calm the fuck down, The Lone Wanderers entire family is a bunch of bleeding hearts, for the greater good though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-26
Updated: 2015-06-26
Packaged: 2018-04-06 07:46:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4213710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Munchy/pseuds/Munchy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I don’t think I’m being selfish when I ask her to stop doing this shit, right?” He looks at James then for some kind of answer but quickly looks away, knowing there isn’t one the Doc can give him. “And even after all that; I still love her and I don’t know why.” His voice cracks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Why Don't You Do Right?

**Author's Note:**

> Currently UnBeta'd. If you spot any mistakes please inform me. Thanks!
> 
> Title taken from the song "Why Don't You Do Right" by Peggy Lee

“Hey Butch, the light’s still on in your house.” Wally Mack points to Butch DeLoria’s window. It’s shining through the curtains and casting a glow onto the floor of the hallway.

“ _Shit…_ ” Butch murmurs. It’s well past curfew and the group of thirteen year old boys managed to sneak past security, but now have to deal with this shit.

Butch pops the collar of his comically oversized leather jacket, trying to hide behind it as if it was going to stop security from finding him. Having to duck and run from security for the past half hour isn’t fun.  And even though they’ve gotten a little too hot from doing so, and the three boys have shed the top half of their Vault suits revealing their clean white t-shirts underneath, each boy is too stubborn to throw the jacket aside. Something silly about gang pride they would tell you.

“Man, you’re mom’s gonna _flip out_ on us, ain’t she?” Paul Hannon says panicking slightly. “My pops thinks I’m spendin’ the night at your place, and if your mom narks, I’m _screwed!_ ”

“She ain’t gonna nark, Paul. She couldn’t care less what I do, so just let me handle this.” Butch smacks his friend in the arm.

“But Butch, my dad…” Paul trails off and both Butch and Wally roll their eyes.

“Fine Hannon, if you’re so scared go hide in the bathroom ‘till the coast is clear.” Wally suggests.

“Only if you come with me, man. If I get caught, I’m taking someone with me.”

“Oh for the love of…” Wally’s about to protest, but Butch pushes the both of them towards the end of the hall.

“ _Just_ go with him, will ya!” He whispers harshly. The two boys scurry down the hall quietly, leaving Butch alone. He walks up to the door and presses a button on the left. It opens with a whooshing sound and light floods the hallway. He’s prepared for the verbal onslaught (albeit one that’s slurred and comes with a few smacks), but it never comes.

Instead, he sees shattered glass on the floor and the coffee table, covered in empty bottles. There are a few more bottles littering the floor here and there, indicating that his mom has been drinking for most of the day (he knows because he had to clean up after her this morning before he left). He takes a few steps into the room (avoiding the broken glass) and sure enough he sees a figure on the couch and rolls his eyes. His mom’s passed out cold.

He gives her form a sneer before he blows some stray hairs out of his eyes with a frustrated sigh. He then turns around to retrieve his friends. As he turns, however, his arm knocks into a side table by accident and an empty bottle of whiskey tumbles to the floor. It shatters spectacularly across the ground and Butch curses under his breath.

He looks sharply towards his mom and for a brief moment he clenches his jaw and prays she doesn’t wake up. When she doesn’t make any sign of waking, he relaxes, letting out a breath he’d been holding. He carefully tip-toes his way through the shattered remains, all the while looking his mom’s way. But she isn’t even stirring. Butch gets a little curious because even at this point she’d have at least stirred a little, but she hasn’t moved an inch. When he purposely steps on a piece of curved glass and crunches it under his thick boot, letting the crack resound across the room, he begins to worry a little because his mom _still_ hasn’t moved or made a sound. Something isn’t right, he’s sure of it.

“Ma…” He calls out quietly. Nothing. He tries again, but a little louder, “Ma?” Butch ignores the broken glass and walks over to the prone form of his mom. He taps her a few times, trying to get her attention, but she won’t move.

“Ma!” He starts to shake her gently, but nothing happens. “ _Ma!_ ” A jolt of pain mixed with panic goes through him. He’s scared now because this has never happened before. “ _Ma!_ ” Butch is yelling now, but Ellen won’t wake up.

Butch looks around the room, trying to find something that might help, but he can’t figure out what he’s looking for. He doesn’t know what to _do_. Butch is gripping his hair looking left to right frantically when he’s suddenly _very_ aware of the bottles littering the living room. He grows a little paler and tries to shake her awake again. Her face looks peaceful and he’s on the verge of some kind of breakdown which he thinks is the least bit fair.

“Shit, shit, shit, _shit!”_ He pushes her onto her side as best he can because he’s seen his dad do it once for her a long time ago (he doesn’t know why that memory comes back to him now) and places his oversized leather jacket over her; then he races out of his apartment. He sprints down the hallway, heart racing, trying not to trip as he rounds a corner. By the time he reaches his destination, he’s panting and his lungs are burning.

He starts pounding on the metal door loudly. “Doc! Doc! I need you!” He’s hollering and for once he doesn’t care if security comes looking him. “ _Doc! Please!_ ” There are little beads of tears forming at the corner of his eyes, and he likes to think it’s because he’s out of breath or something like that and _not_ because his mom might not get up ever again.

Finally, the door opens revealing Dr. James Bustillo in nothing but his Vault issued PJ’s. His hair is askew and he’s rubbing his face as he looks down at the little Tunnel Snake. “Butch? What…” He says tiredly.

“ _Doc!_ Ya gotta help! It’s my ma! She won’t wake up!” Butch grabs James’ hand and starts to tug at his arm, trying to lead the good doctor to his mom.

“Woah! Slow down! What’s happened?” James manages to get out of Butch’s grip and grabs his lab coat hanging by the door and quickly puts it on.

“ _My Ma!_ She won’t wake up, no matter how much I shake or yell at her!” Butch is on the verge of tears but stubbornly won’t shed them. He’s getting increasingly frustrated by the second. “You gotta _help_ her, man!”

“Okay Butch, take me to her.” James says calmly as he grabs the emergency first aid kit he stashes in the living room dresser. Butch grabs his hand again and practically drags him back to his apartment. When they arrive, Ellen still hasn’t moved. James tries to avoid the broken glass (he didn’t grab his shoes) while Butch rushes to her and tries to wake her again. He’s panicking, calling her name and shaking her vigorously.

When James makes it over, he lays a hand on Butch’s shoulder to try and relax him. “Butch, I need you clean up that glass, just in case I need to carry her to the medical lab.” Butch looks at him with an open mouth about ready to cry. “Okay, Butch?” James tries again. Butch nods dumbly and rushes to the kitchen to grab a broom.

James begins to work, checking Ellen’s pulse. He notes the coffee table’s littered with empty liquor bottles and has a good idea of what happened. Taking in her unconscious state, James quickly diagnoses that she’s suffering from acute alcohol poisoning. “Damn…” He mutters.

“Doc?” James looks to see Butch clutching a broom in his shaking grip. “You’re gonna save her _right_? You have to!”

James realizes that he needs to distract Butch. He’s panicking and that won’t help the situation if it gets any worse. “Butch, I will help your mother, but I need you to clean up the glass.”

“Please, doc…” Butch looks down at the floor, hiding tears and shaking.

“Butch?” James hesitates. He’s never seen Butch like this. He honestly looks so small and afraid. The little boy in front of him is nothing like the young adolescent who terrorizes not only his daughter but nearly everyone in the Vault. It’s a vulnerable look that’s utterly heartbreaking.

 “I may not like her, but she’s still my _ma_ …” Butch admits with a cracking voice as his grip on the broom goes white.

“Butch… Butch, look at me.” James orders and Butch does. “I’m going to help her, I _promise._ ” He says each word slowly, getting his point across. Butch, with a puffy red face and tears streaming down his cheeks, nods slowly and starts sweeping up the glass, sniffing as he does so. James goes back to work quickly.

Eventually he lifts her up off the couch, leaving the Butch’s jacket behind. “I need to get her to the med lab, alright Butch.” Butch nods again, having finished sweeping the glass into a pile. James starts heading to the lab with Butch following close behind. Once they’re there, James lowers Ellen onto a bed and uses the intercom to call Jonas.

He sneaks a glance at Butch while he waits for Jonas to answer. He’s by his mother’s side, holding her hand and trying not to sob. When Jonas finally answers and is given the details, James makes his way towards Butch and places a hand on his shoulder.

“Butch, I need you to go into my office and wait there.” James says slowly and calmly. He’s not asking so much as he’s telling Butch what to do.

“Why?” Butch scowls up at him with fresh tear tracks running down his face.  James thinks his face looks far less menacing than what Butch intended it to be.

“Butch, _please_. We can’t have you in the way.” Butch looks like he’s about to protest, but James quickly interrupts him, “If you want to help your mother, then the best thing you can do is let Jonas and me work. I promise that she’ll be okay.”

Butch doesn’t say anything then, just nods his head and quietly prattles over to James’ office. He takes a seat in front of the desk that’s situated there and tries not to sob like a baby. He rubs his arms in an attempt to comfort himself and stay off any goose bumps. He could easily untie the lower half of his jumpsuit that’s tied around his waist, but he doesn’t want to ‘cause he’s got more important things on his mind.

He really doesn’t want his mom to die. He may hate her fucking guts sometimes, but he doesn’t want to be with people who don’t care about him. With people who would all rather lock him away and never see him again.  At least his mom _tries_ to care (or pretends to, he’s not sure).  At least at some point she _did_ care enough to _have_ him. At least she attempts to be a parent (a piss poor one, but still).

He can’t _stand_ her sometimes, but he doesn’t want to be all _alone_ either.

Butch can’t stop shaking in his seat now. He looks to the Vault Boy bobble head on Dr. Bustillo’s desk in an attempt to avoid looking at the family photo next to it. But the smile on that stupid little Vault Boy’s face doesn’t make things better. Butch wishes he could be happy like that.

He finally gives up and sobs into his hands.

* * *

 

When James enters his office, it’s been about thirty minutes and Butch has stopped crying. He’s curled up in the chair with his knees to his chin, not really looking at anything so much as he’s daydreaming. James sets a mug in front of Butch on the desk and takes a sip from his own mug. Butch snaps out of his thoughts and looks at James before taking the offered drink.

“Your mother is resting up now. She’ll be up sometime tomorrow.” James gives him a gentle smile. There are a few more tests to run just to make sure everything is alright, but he avoids telling Butch that so the boy doesn’t worry. Butch looks down into his mug and takes a sip. It’s hot chocolate.

“Thanks, Doc…” Butch says after he swallows, voice rough. James leans against his desk and studies Butch for a moment. He’s obviously calmed down quite a bit from before but hasn’t shown any of his usual abrasive tendencies just yet.

He takes another sip of his coffee. “You’re very welcome, Butch. I’m glad I could help your mother.” Butch nods slightly and the two are enveloped in silence once again.

“I meant what I said.” Butch begins, and James looks up. “I _hate_ her... My mom’s a shit parent that can’t stay sober enough to take care of her own damn kid. She lies to my face about everything and makes broken promises whenever I ask her to try and change for my sake.” Butch is sniffing and tears are forming once more. “I don’t think I’m being selfish when I ask her to stop doing this shit, _right_?” He looks at James then for some kind of answer but quickly looks away, knowing there isn’t one the Doc can give him. “And even after all that; I _still_ love her and I don’t know _why._ ” His voice cracks.

James looks on sympathetically, not really sure what to say to that. He takes a tissue from his desk and hands it to Butch, who hesitantly takes it. He’s right though, that much James can say. His mother needs to stop this because it’s obviously affecting her child, but he doesn’t know what to do about it. He knows if Catherine were here, she’d know exactly what to do. He knows that she would have been an amazing mother, not just to their daughter, but to most of the children in the Vault who needed someone. Not even Butch would’ve been an exception to her affectionate nature.

The silence envelops them again, and for a while James’ wonders if maybe the best he can do is talk to Ellen about this later. She may get mad, but he’s got to at least try. Then Butch breaks the silence.

“I don’t want to be alone…” It’s so quiet, yet the confession shocks James out of his thoughts. He stares at Butch and really see’s a vulnerability there he hasn’t seen on anyone since he came to Vault 101. Not since he lost Catherine and was left with only a tiny little infant in the world had he known that kind of helplessness. He’s sure that Butch didn’t mean for that to be said out loud, and he’s positive Butch hasn’t realized it yet either because he’s still curled up in the chair, staring out into nothingness.  

“Butch…” James begins as he sets his cup down and goes over to place a hand on Butch’s shoulder. It’s then that he’ startled out of his daydreaming and snaps his head in James’ direction with wide blue eyes and a clenched jaw.  “You’re not alone...”

Butch looks like he wants to say something, but he’s interrupted by a knock at the metal door.

“Uhh… Doctor? You have company.” James recognizes the voice as Jonas’ and presses the button to open the door. He glances at Jonas’ half worried, half tired face and notices the security guards at the med lab’s entrance. He also sees Wally and Paul there as well, looking sheepish.

James is a smart man (or he likes to think he is). Seeing  this means that all three boys were probably out past curfew earlier this evening. Which probably also means that they were heading home when Butch found his mother, otherwise he would have seen Wally and Paul with Butch when he was helping Ellen at the DeLoria's apartment. And by the look on Paul Hannon Sr.’s face, security was probably here for Butch too (because James’ ninety-nine percent sure one of the boys had said Butch’s name at some point after they got caught).

As far as James is concerned, he has one of two options: feed Butch to the wolves or lie. He much prefers the latter honestly, because right now was not a good time for Butch. He can at least do this for the kid, can’t he?

“Butch, stay here for a moment.” James says and walks out of his office. “Evening gentlemen, what can I do for you?” He asks with a cheerful grin. Officer Hannon doesn’t look the least bit amused.

“Dr. Bustillo, I’d like to speak to Butch.” He’s got a glint of oppressive authority in his eyes and speaks with a grim attitude.

“I can’t let you do that at the moment, Butch is a bit troubled.” James begins.

“Yeah, he’s _in_ trouble more like it.” Mr. Hannon scoffs. “He was out past curfew with the boys here. Found my son and Wally in the men’s bathroom a little while ago. Tried to find Butch, but no one answered his door. Then I hear from one of my guards that the clinic is open, figured I’d check in.”

“Ah, I see. Well, that’s because the DeLorias are here, Paul.” James counters. Hannon looks a little surprised by the announcement. “Ellen was suffering from acute alcohol poisoning and the boys rushed to me for help.” He looks to Paul and Wally who quickly take the hint. “As for your son and Wally being in the bathroom, I sent them there.”

“Yeah, he sent us there!” Wally says quickly.

“What? _Why_ in the world would Dr. Bustillo send you boys to the men’s room?” It’s obvious in Hannon’s tone that he doesn’t believe them.

“I ran out of Thiamine.” James answers. “I needed an injection of it, but I thought I ran out a day ago and hadn’t had the time to go through storage down in the basement. While I was treating Ellen, I had Paul and Wally quickly go to the men’s room where the emergency first aid kit is located since Butch was in hysterics over his mother.”

“I was _not!_ ” Butch hollers from the office.

“You’re ears are red, kid.” Jonas says.

“Sh-shut up!”

“ _And_ …” James interrupts silencing the two, “As you are well aware Paul, there is a solution of thiamine in the kit.”

Hannon glares at James then turns towards his son. “You could have told me _that_.” He lectures.

“I would have if you’d let me.” Paul retorts as he crosses his arms, but quickly looks sheepish at the frown given by his father. “Sir…”

“Yeah, you just started to drag us away and wouldn’t let us have a word in.” Wally says, not nearly as affected by Officer Hannon’s glare.

“Alright…” He sighs. “I guess I’ll let this one slide.” Both boys smile gleefully. “But don’t you still need that thiamine, Doctor?”

“Jonas luckily found an injection I had hidden away in… Where was it, Jonas?” James looks to his assistant.

“Your office Doctor. In the safe.” Jonas quickly amends.

Hannon still looks a bit skeptical but turns to Paul and Wally, “You two are spending the night at my place tonight.” They both grumble in unison.

“How come?” Paul asks after displaying his displeasure.

“Butch has probably had it with you two for the night, especially with what happened to his mother. Let him rest up and have some time alone.” He then turns to Dr. Bustillo. “And James, next time this happens, _call_ security if you need anything.” He then leaves the lab to escort the boys back home. James sighs in relief.

“Nice save there, James.” Jonas says. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to get some sleep myself. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Alright Jonas, thank you for the help.”

“Doc?” James turns towards Butch, who’s standing by the office door. He looks confused. “Why’d you help me?” Normally Butch doesn’t look a gift horse in the mouth (whatever a horse is), but nobody ever tries to help him out of a situation like that, it’s all a bit strange to him.

“Because sometimes Butch, people get tired of seeing others get hurt.” He tries to explain. James tries not to make it sound as though he was sympathizing with Butch. It’s not that he has no sympathy for the boy (he has it by the caravan load), but he’s sure that Butch wouldn’t appreciate it. “Now let’s take you home for some rest.”

James holds out his hand, knowing full well Butch probably won’t take it, but he thinks the gesture is appreciated when Butch hesitates for just a moment before walking past the doctor. They walk in relative silence, and by the time they reach Butch’s apartment, the clock reads 1:36 am.

“Now get some rest Butch, I’ll see you tomorrow.” James gives a gentle smile before closing the door behind him and heading back to the med lab. Butch is alone, but he isn’t tired. Instead he looks around the living room, at the empty bottles of liquor that litter the floor and coffee table. He sighs loudly and picks up a bin located by the door and starts picking up the mess.

By the time the bin is nearly full, Butch is almost done. He just has to clean up the other half of the table. As he puts another vodka bottle that’s still half full away, he wonders what promises his mother’s gonna make to him _this_ time. They’ll probably be grand no doubt, since she almost _died_. But Butch doesn’t have high hopes that she’ll actually keep to them. She never keeps them.

He wonders why she keeps doing this to herself. He likes to think it has something to do with her job (Ellen got demoted to a maintenance worker after all) or maybe she’s just unhappy with her life (her husband _is_ dead and she has a hooligan for a son). But sometimes in these little moments when he’s picking up the remnants of his mom’s scattered life, he thinks it has something to do with him. That maybe if he hadn’t been born, a lot of people’s lives would be a lot better.

He clears off another three bottles and spots a rectangular frame laying face down on the table. He sets the bottles down and picks up the frame. It’s of his family before his dad died. He sees his dad and mom looking happy, and in her arms is a little baby Butch. He guesses that this was the cause of her sudden binge. And now that he thinks about it, it _is_ getting close to his dad’s birthday.

He stares at the faded black and white picture a little longer and wonders if any of them can be this happy again. With a heavy sigh, Butch places the photo on the coffee table. He’s suddenly very exhausted, so much so that he can’t finish cleaning up.

He walks to his room and kicks off his boots before collapsing onto the bed, arms spread wide as if he were expecting someone to catch him (Though he knows no one will… or maybe Doc would, who knows anymore, certainly not him. But at least there’s a bit of hope somewhere lodged in his heart again).

(It will be several years later when Dr. Bustillo’s daughter, Magnolia, saves his mom from radroaches. He’ll watch as what he thought were timid hands clutch a baseball bat and smash every bug to death with a furry he’s only ever equated with her once before. Then he’ll watch as she puts his jacket on and rush down the hallway. He’ll wonder where the hell she’s off to, and by the time he finds out she and Doc are gone from the Vault for good.

He’ll wonder late at night in the med lab, where the rebellion has made their home base, if everyone in the Bustillo family are a bunch of bleeding hearts. And he’ll wonder if that’s what he needs in his life. A bleeding heart.)

**Author's Note:**

> So this was a long ass way for me to get an idea of what Butch and James' relationship was like. Not that they got along all the time (Butch did harass James' daughter like non-stop), but just a moment in time when they did see eye to eye. Also if you recognize one of the scenes from one of my previous fics, you get a gold star!


End file.
